Staking Lessons
by RedSpark
Summary: B/S(sorta): Following another “incident” Buffy decides to teach Dawn some self-defense survival skills for life on the Hellmouth, and enlists the help of Spike.
1. Going Through the Motions

1 Title: Staking Lessons  
  
2  
  
3 Part: 1 / 4  
  
4 Author: RedSpark  
  
Email: red_spark@hotmail.com  
  
5  
  
6 Disclaimer: Nothing is mine, it's all theirs (JW, ME, and company)  
  
7 Summary: Following another "incident" Buffy decides to teach Dawn some self-defense survival skills for life on the Hellmouth, and enlists the help of Spike.  
  
Rating: R for the whole series, PG-13 for this part  
  
Spoilers: Season Six up to As You Were and probably Hell's Bells later on  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
  
  
Staking Lessons, Chapter 1: Going Through the Motions  
  
  
  
Background: This is set in Season 6, post-As You Were but with a slightly bent timeline.  
  
The wedding is still a few weeks off. The Spuffy is not occurring, but I am a B/Ser so you have been warned (  
  
Oh, and anything enclosed in "*" is a thought. For example, *thought*  
  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
-Flashback ("Once More With Feeling")-  
  
"Have you talked with Dawn about that incident at Halloween?"  
  
Buffy looked at Giles in mild surprise. "No, I thought you took care of it." She walked over to the beam to do some stretches. "What would I do without you, Giles?" She pulled out her hamstring and calves, then turned to face her watcher. "Ok, I'm ready."  
  
* * * * *  
  
-A few months later…-  
  
  
  
"Hey Dawn?"  
  
The teen looked up warily. She was in the middle of doing math homework, and normally she'd welcome any interruption, but the look on Buffy's face made her think twice.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Can we talk? Downstairs?"  
  
"Sure." She sighed and stood up, trailing her sister to the living room and the big family conference couch.  
  
Buffy looked at her, unsure how to start. "I need to talk with you, about the, uh, incident at the Bronze."  
  
Dawn sighed and pulled her knees up to her chest. "So what about it? Trying to repress here, if you don't mind."  
  
"Well, it's not exactly the first time something like that has happened." Buffy looked at her fixedly. "That other incident at Halloween…"  
  
The girl ground her teeth together. "It's not my fault. It's not like I didn't know them. Maybe," and she glared with all the righteous-teen- anger, "If someone was doing their job better, this wouldn't be happening." She saw her sister cringe at the somewhat-true accusation. It wasn't fair, she knew, but she was still wigged from what had happened….  
  
*  
  
-Flashback to earlier that night-  
  
The extended Scooby Gang was at the Bronze. Xander and Anya were in full pre-Wedding panic mode, devouring a bowl of bar pretzels. Willow was talking happily about some –ology class, and Buffy was doing the lean-on- the-table, semi-interested look as she tried not to sweep the room, looking for a certain blond head.  
  
Dawn spotted Janice stroll in, escorted by several cute guys that looked vaguely familiar. She hopped off her stool and headed over.  
  
Several songs later, Buffy looked out on the dance floor and saw her younger sister dancing closely with a tall redhead.  
  
The slow song ended and Dawn smiled up at the guy, trying hard to remember what Janice had said his name was. He was one of the stars on the basketball team. He took her hand and led her off the dance floor, towards a dark corner. He asked her something about wanting a drink, laughed and vamped out, and knocked her viciously backwards into the shadows. When she regained consciousness, her sister was looming over her, stake still in hand.  
  
*  
  
"You need to be careful, Dawnie. Some guys aren't what they seem- literal or figuratively." The two sat there for a minute, lost in separate memories.  
  
"Well, you have to admit this was better then _last_ time," the teen pointed out, hoping to lighten the mood.  
  
Buffy laughed softly. "God, if mom had ever caught me parking…I would have been Ms. goes-to-bed-at-nine for the next two years. I'm not very good at dealing out mom punishments, though, so I have a different idea." The mischievous glint in her sister's eye caught Dawn off-guard. "For the next four weeks, you are grounded after school. No going over to friends' houses, without my permission. Instead, you're going to come straight to the Magic Box. And I am going to teach you how to stake a vamp properly."  
  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
-Week 1-  
  
-Monday-  
  
The bell in the Magic Shop rang as Dawn ran in after school. She shouted a quick hello to the Scoobies and bounced to the back to put her bag away. At the doors to the training room she paused, hearing a raging argument inside.  
  
"-cute idea. And next week, we can teach her how to patrol so she can go be Little Slayer Sidekick."  
  
"Look Spike, I don't like this anymore than you do. But we DO live on a Hellmouth. Vampire slaying should be, like, a home ec class. AND, it's pretty obvious that attraction to vampires seems to be in the Summers' blood. So, better safe than sorry."  
  
"Oh, I'm all for safe, luv. Which is why I don't understand why *I* should be the one to teach 'er. Call bloody Rupert, tell 'im you've got a new candidate or some rot. I'm sure an unemployed ex-librarian would jump at such an offer."  
  
Buffy shoved him, hard. "I am NOT calling Giles. I can take care of this on my own."  
  
"Right, pet." Spike came right up to her face. "That's why you're practically begging for my help."  
  
"I am NOT begging."  
  
"Is that so?" He tilted his head inquisitively, then smirked. "I could make you, you know."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Beg."  
  
Buffy rolled her eyes and resisted the urge to shove him, falling back instead on her verbal arsenal. "Spike, you're a pig."  
  
"Please, Slayer, sing me a new one." He rolled his eyes in return.  
  
She bit back a scathing comment and the room lapsed into uncomfortable silence, for a moment at least. Both were a little rusty at playing the old slayer-evil fiend act, although the past week had shown that UST could be a blessing in that regard. Heat. Desire. When contained, they only tended to fester and emerge in other, not so pleasant ways.  
  
Buffy looked at him out of the corner of her eye as she opened the weapons chest. The avoidance method had worked out well, for the few hours she didn't need his help. But somehow, something always came up. *And usually related to Dawn* she growled to herself. At least this time, he hadn't thrown it back in her face when she'd asked. Not at the time. Now, however, she was thinking he had just been saving up for today.  
  
*Pissing a Slayer off in a room with lots of sharp, point weapons. Not getting any brighter, is he?*  
  
"Any time you'd like to come back to bloody earth, Mulder? Don't have all night to stand around contemplating the ceiling, 'least while I'm still sober and standing."  
  
*But definitely getting more obnoxious. And you thought it wasn't possible*  
  
She looked around at him, standing there with an unreadable expression. "Spi-"  
  
"Let's just get on with it then. Nibblet!" He could hear the girl just beyond the door, filled with trepidation at what was going on in the room. At his call, though, she bravely came through the door, feigning innocence and complete ignorance of the argument.  
  
"I'm ready." She stood there in black adidas pants and a t-shirt, long hair pulled back in a ponytail. Spike looked to Buffy for guidance.  
  
"Ah…ok, so first we're going to learn a few self defense moves."  
  
Buffy ran her sister through different types of kicks and punches, and had her do several repetitions. After the umpteenth roundhouse, Dawn complained that she must be worse than Giles ever was.  
  
"Trust me, I'm a much more patient Watcher-type." Spike snorted in derision, and the Slayer turned.  
  
"You know, I think it's time for some sparring practice."  
  
*  
  
"Aim your kick a little higher, Nibblet." Spike stood next to her and indicated that she should mimic his stance. "Now see, I pick my knee up and pivot- "going through the motions- "and then I kick, straight out. See how I lean forward a little, making my body a little more horizontal? It gives you more elongation in the leg, a straighter- harder-kick." He grinned and gestured for her to try. Dawn sighed and went into the starting stance. As she pivoted and kicked her leg out, Spike grabbed hold of it.  
  
"Still dropping." He shook his head. "Now, lean forward and in…lean…good. Feel that." Dawn nodded a little. Her leg felt…straighter, and when she did just the kicking motion a few times, she could feel the added power.  
  
"I think it's time for another demonstration." The vampire turned and cheerfully called, "Buffy, luv, come here."  
  
The Slayer stopped her own workout and wandered over.  
  
"I'm just helping the Lil' bit here with some kicks, and I think it'd help if she understood what she's aiming for." Buffy gave him a skeptical look and went to stand behind Dawn.  
  
"Alright, pet," he whispered quietly in her ear, "remember to keep the leg on the out and straight." She nodded and went into stance. Then up, pivot, lean and kick-  
  
"Oof!"  
  
"Nice one, pet" Spike grinned and gestured. "See? Keep it straight and it goes right into her chest…not as satisfying as a gut punch but a hell of a lot more debilitating for the attacker. Get more strength, and you could really crack some ribs."  
  
"REALLY?"  
  
"Spike…"  
  
"Right, well, we won't practice that drill right now." He looked thoughtful. "Maybe we could get Xander to come in later…"  
  
* * * * *  
  
-Wednesday-  
  
"Watch it, girl!" Spike ducked to the side as another of Dawn's kicks went wild. He waved the paddles he held in each hand. "Aiming for these, remember? Not necessary to take the chips off my shoulders."  
  
The teen stopped and put her hands on her hips. Her new tank top was very wet and smelly, her legs ached, and she had had it up to _here_ with a certain peroxide blond vampire. "Spike, explain to me again HOW breaking a pinkie is going to stop my getting eaten by some vicious demon attacker?"  
  
"We're working on aim, not motives," Spike ground out for what felt like the hundredth time. "Once you've improved your aim enough, I might start letting you near some of my more vital organs."  
  
Dawn threw up her hands and stalked across the room to her water, ranting. "Right, because vampires are such delicate creatures. I might stop your unbeating heart, or, uh, your uh, un-something liver. What part of your anatomy could I possibly injure?" She turned back to find an almost sheepish expression on the vamp's face. And a blushing Slayer. "What?"  
  
* * * * *  
  
-Friday-  
  
"Were you this bad with Giles?" Spike growled a few days later. Dawn had just grudgingly finished her exercises and left, mumbling something about a shower and massage and the fiery death of certain creatures. Buffy was going through the last part of her boxer workout, rehearsing some old punching combinations.  
  
"Oh, no, I used to be much worse." She threw a final left jab and caught the punching bag, setting it still. "Dawn's already been through an apocalypse or two, so she knows the danger." Buffy walked over to an exercise mat and sat down to stretch her legs and back. "Imagine me at fifteen- rash, impulsive-"  
  
"-hot-"  
  
"-naïve. Never having died. Not even a close call. And no vampire boyfriend with 200-plus years of guilt to cope with." She felt Spike bristle slightly at the mention of his grandsire, but the vamp shrugged it off and pulled himself up on the vaulting horse and perched, watching her curiously.  
  
"I didn't get it. The responsibility." She smiled, a little bitterly. "Who thinks about dying at fifteen?"  
  
She was treading on the down slope of wistfulness and pity.  
  
"Sounds a bit like me, when I was young," the vampire jumped in. He flashed a cocky grin at the Slayer. "Not when I was fifteen, 'course, I was just a silly prat in frilly collars – like all Victorian English boys," he added defensively. "But when I was newly turned – what an idiot I was! The kill, the violence, I lived for it. Got my back against a wall more times than I can count, on account of my own self."  
  
She looked at him doubtfully, as if to ask "and you're _proud_ of this??"  
  
He sat up and reached for a cigarette. "If my ol' grandsire had still been human, it would've given him a couple of bloody heart attacks.  
  
"Not that that would be a bad thing," he added in a mutter.  
  
The Slayer looked at him in half-scolding, half-amusement. Spike stretched and smirked to himself. It appeared that the grand revered poof was no longer on such a high pedestal. But still, better not to push the luck. For now.  
  
"But do vampires _really_ think about getting staked?" It was more a statement than a question. She picked up Mr. Pointy and twirled it her hands. "In my experience, most vamps don't. They don't really think about anything or live for anything outside of the present. Not really saving up for that nice retirement condo in West Palm Beach and the Carnival cruise vacation."  
  
Spike jumped down and paced around his half of the room. "We don't have to. Humans are much more fragile. They can be killed in so many ways. They need something to grasp onto that promise of a future, to make them believe they will be there to enjoy it."  
  
He broke out of his introspection and smirked.  
  
"'Course, most vamps are blimey fools in the first place. That's how they got caught and turned. Don't last more than a few months before mister sunshine gets 'em or some big bad dusts 'em for jollies."  
  
"Or they chase after Ms. Slayer and she kicks their ass."  
  
A low chuckle. "Yeah, Ms. Slayer and her overprotective mum." He stopped and smirked. "We're not having a conversation, are we?" He raised an eyebrow at Buffy, who was still sitting on the mat halfway across the room.  
  
She smiled awkwardly. "Guess so."  
  
Someone knocked on the door, and Xander's voice called out. "Hey! Evil Dead! Hope you haven't eaten Buffy, 'cause she has a dinner date with her friends that she needs to get ready for."  
  
The Slayer jumped up in relief and hurried to get her bag. She paused before the door and turned halfway back.  
  
"Spike…Thanks, for helping with Dawn, and – and thanks." She smiled, then opened the door and walked out. 


	2. The Dance, Interrupted

1 Title: Staking Lessons  
  
2  
  
3 Part: 2 / 4  
  
4 Author: RedSpark  
  
Email: red_spark@hotmail.com  
  
5  
  
6 Disclaimer: Nothing is mine, it's all theirs (JW, ME, and company)  
  
7 Summary: Buffy has decided to teach Dawn some self-defense survival skills for life on the Hellmouth. In this part, the lessons continue.  
  
Rating: R for the whole series, PG-13 for this part  
  
Spoilers: Season Six up to As You Were and probably Hell's Bells later on  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Staking Lessons, Chapter 2: The Dance Interrupted  
  
  
  
Author's Note: In my private Buffyverse, Xander and Anya's wedding is still a week off (a little time wrinkle)  
  
so everything after "As You Were" still hasn't happened.  
  
Oh, and anything in '*' is a thought. Ex: *This is a thought.*  
  
* * * * *  
  
Week 2, Monday.  
  
  
  
"Look, Xander, I understand the whole wedding ideal, l'ambiance, etc." The ex-demon rolled her eyes. "But this is just a little too far."  
  
Her groom-to-be frowned. "La- ambi-whatever, An, the point is," He walked over to her and crossed behind to wrap his arms around her waist, "I want it to be special. As special as possible."  
  
She wiggled out of his embrace. "Yes, but it can still be special. I'm worried enough with guest lists and juggling two caterers and- and I don't need *this* to add to that big pile of frustration-"  
  
The bell jingled and Anya stopped suddenly, looking hopefully towards the potential customer. She pouted when she saw who it was, and turned back to Xander.  
  
"I don't need this. I think that you should rethink your-"  
  
"Hate to interrupt the lovers' spat," Spike drawled, "but either of you know if the Summers are 'ere yet?"  
  
Xander redirected his glare to the blond vampire. "Buffy's in the back." He turned back to Anya as they resumed their argument.  
  
  
  
*  
  
  
  
Spike opened the training room door to see the Slayer sitting on a mat, surrounded by a dozen very pointy, very wooden stakes. He felt a involuntary shudder go through him, and shook it off.  
  
"Been preparing for me, luv?"  
  
"Spike!" The blond head came up and her eyes flashed mischievously. "Want to try one out? Not sure if I got 'em sharp enough."  
  
He winced and hung back. "Shouldn't joke about that." He tried to brush off the suddenly serious atmosphere. "So where's the Nibblet? Not playing hooky, is she? She can stand her other teachers up, but if she's messing with me then-"  
  
"She's just late." Buffy shrugged. "She should be here in about fifteen minutes. You can hang out until then." She gestured around the room. "Have a, uh, seat, somewhere."  
  
Very studiously she resumed working on her stakes while Spike crossed to the other side of the room and absently examined a row of weapons. A tense silence was strung over the room, and the quiet sound of scraping wood did nothing to dispel it. The two former mortal enemies, former allies, and former lovers bent to their separate tasks, searching for distraction.  
  
The vampire tested the blades' sharpness as he exerted control not to turn to her, because he knew she could sense it, could sense when his eyes, his gaze was on her. Instead he imagined her in his head, but even the ghost- Buffy filled him with hurt… hurt for what he had, for what he had lost, for his failure in, in-. He shook his head, putting it out of mind. *I may not have her, but I still have my rocks back* he reminded himself. As long as he didn't fling 'em back in the ditch the instant that bint looked at him… He curled his fingers in anger around the handle of one ax and picked it up, giving it a few violent test swings.  
  
*So quiet* Buffy thought, needlessly taking a few chips off a perfectly pointy stake. She glanced surreptiously at the subdued vamp, who seemed to be keenly inspecting the battleaxes. When she had first asked for his help, she hadn't realized how, well, awkward it might be. She'd only wanted the best for Dawn, and she knew bringing the vampire in would make her sister that much more interested in the lessons. She had conveniently forgotten about the proximity issues the two of them might have.  
  
A large crash from the shop distracted both their thoughts. Anya's voice, incoherent, could be heard as she went off on some kind of rant. Buffy chuckled, remembering what had started this particular argument. Spike shot a curious look at her, discomfort forgotten as he tried to deduce what the ex-demon was wailing on about.  
  
"So what mischief has the whelp done now, causing such an uproar?"  
  
Buffy stopped smiling. "Uh-uh. Xander would kill me if I ever told you."  
  
"Really." That caused an eyebrow raise. "That means it must be embarrassing. Or better, humiliating. 'Fraid this is just too good to pass up." He set the ax down and eagerly started for the door.  
  
"No!" Buffy scrambled up. She reconsidered and grabbed a stake from the ground. "Don't go near that door or, or, I'll-" she held up the stake half- heartedly.  
  
The vamp wheeled around, eyes blazing in an amused but deadly way. "Or what." He glanced at the weapon in hand and smiled bitterly. "Sorry excuse for a dusting if you ask me." He moved away from the door and taking on a reasonable tone, repeated his question. "So, what's the story?"  
  
Buffy looked down and crossed her arms, admitting defeat. "He wants to waits," she blurted out, and glared up at a very confused vampire.  
  
"Wait. As in, for the big…night." Seeing her clues weren't helping any, she sighed in frustration. "What, this wasn't part of your Victorian tradition?" She briefly pondered that, then sighed mightily. "Lemme spell it out then, bleach boy. Xander wants to, to not have…sex…until the wedding night."  
  
Spike's mouth opened in an 'O' of understanding, then widened into a smirk.  
  
*  
  
Dawn came in a few moments later, easily circumnavigating the shop war zone. She set down her bag, dressed and ready for training.  
  
"Lesson the first," Buffy held up a sharpened stake, "Always reach for your weapon. Or better, have a weapon." She showed Dawn a few of her favorite concealment places. "And if all else fails, wear a coat. Lots of pockets to hide stuff in."  
  
Dawn grabbed a couple stakes, hid them in her sleeves and stuck two in her jeans pockets.  
  
"Okay, ready and armed."  
  
"Alright." The slayer gestured for her to come over the mats. She went through some various ways to stake: through the chest, through the back, with her left hand, then she showed Dawn a neat spinning move.  
  
"Gives you momentum, too," Buffy grinned. "The better to drive it in."  
  
The brunette practiced on the dummy, nearly running into it the first time. She recovered, and soon was spinning and staking the poor stuffing right out of it.  
  
"That's all and good, pet" Spike stood from his corner, "like one of those bloody sequined skating girls. But most vamps aren't going to stand there applauding and waiting politely for you."  
  
The sisters looked at him, a little startled. He had been so quiet they had forgotten about their audience.  
  
Buffy stepped back, leaning against a side wall as he approached Dawn. His voice and face were seriously intense, and the blond realized he was approaching her sister like a prey, his predatory walk slow and deliberate. Not enough to scare her, but enough to realize which side had the advantage.  
  
Dawn stood still as she watched Spike approach. There was something in his face, the way he was –creeping?- up to her, that unnerved her. His eyes were very un-spike-like, full of something she didn't want to identify. Then he smiled at her, and the familiar affectionate look was back. The vamp pulled the stake out of her hand and tossed it far off to the side. From his back pocket, he handed her something smooth and yellow. Puzzled, Dawn looked down and saw a plastic tent stake.  
  
Spike grinned. "Can't be too careful, now can we luv?" He stepped back a few paces and held up his arms in fight stance. "Now let's try a few of those moves from last week, eh? Only-" He grimaced for a second. "Be gentle with that thing, 'kay pet? May be plastic, but it still hurts like bloody hell if it goes in deep 'nough."  
  
Dawn nodded and circled with him, stake held high in her right arm. She took three steps in, feinted as if to stake him, then quickly turned and started to stake him from the back. Spike quickly read her and twisted around, knocked the stake from her right hand with his left, then knocking her feet out from under her. He caught her before she fell and stood her back up.  
  
"Not bad, luv," he fetched her stake from the mat and handed it back. "Might get a fresh-popped vamp. But remember, vamp reflexes are quick- quicker than yours. You gotta get them off-guard first. Throw some punches, some kicks, and wait for an opening. If you go charging straight in, they'll see it a mile off, even if they're the daftest vampire ever. Trade with them a bit, and then, the second you see 'em slip-" He was suddenly in her face- "Bam! Step in and stake 'em."  
  
Dawn nodded, a little overwhelmed. The sparring pair moved back to their starting positions, the Slayer all but forgotten as they watched each other.  
  
  
  
*  
  
  
  
An hour later, Dawn was decidedly overwhelmed with fatigue, and even the vampire was starting to show his frustration a little. They had reviewed her moves, and approaches, and feints, but the teen was still easily readable. She would have been a easy snack for a fledging.  
  
"Time-out, Bit," Spike stretched and stood back. She looked exhausted, and he almost felt guilty for pushing her so hard. *Sod it, it's for her own good.*  
  
"We can work on this more tomorrow. My tummy's rumbling."  
  
"'Kay." Dawn silently sighed in relief. If she tried to throw one more kick, she was sure she would collapse. "Buffy?" She saw a small heap of blond curled up in a corner, and went over and shook her.  
  
"Hu-uhh.." Buffy tried to discretely wipe the drool off her chin, then focused on her sister. "Hey. You guys done already?"  
  
Dawn helped her to her feet, then turned back to Spike. "Want to grab dinner with us? Mm…pizza and I think we have pints back at the house. Buffy picked some up the other week."  
  
"Actually, Dawn, I have to work a half-shift at the DoubleMeat." Buffy looked at her apologetically and gave her hand a squeeze. Then looked over the blond vampire, who was just standing there, quietly watching them and looking almost…pensive?  
  
"Spike? Can you make sure she gets home alright?"  
  
He broke out of his reverie and looked at her, unreadable.  
  
"Sure. C'mon here, Lil' Bit." He held out his arm and Dawn lightly took it, and he escorted her out of the room.  
  
Buffy quickly changed into her orange-striped uniform and exited into the shop. Xander was slumped over the "research table." The shop was strangely quiet, puzzling until she realized that Anya was nowhere in sight. When she asked Xander, he just shrugged and looked even more miserable.  
  
"Hey," Buffy pulled up a chair next the soon-to-be-bridegroom. "I think it's a really cute idea."  
  
He gave her a scathing look. "Well, ok, not cute, but sweet. Really. And I'm sure she'll think that too, just give her time to adjust."  
  
He nodded, staring morosely at the candle centerpiece. Then looked up, and tried to fall back into the old Xander. "So, the Dawnster was looking pretty chipper with Evil Dead. She doing better?"  
  
"Yeah, she's doing better in school. And I think she's actually enjoying these lessons, despite all the complaints."  
  
"Uh-huh. You don't, well, think she still has a crush on Spike. Do you?"  
  
"Huh?" The Slayer looked puzzled.  
  
"Last year, that whole Drusilla thing. You thought she had a crush on him."  
  
"Oh, yeah, that. But then all that other stuff happened…and I'm sure she's over it now. I hope so. It would be really weird otherwise."  
  
Xander frowned. "It was really weird to begin with. What're you talking about?"  
  
"Uh, nothing." Buffy looked at the clock. "Oops, time for work, gotta go." She hurried out, leaving a very confused Xander.  
  
  
  
*  
  
  
  
"Here ya go."  
  
Spike caught the packet and ripped it open, pouring half into an oversized mug. Popped it in the microwave, then took a seat next to Dawn to wait for the frozen pizza to cook.  
  
"So your sis bought these pints? What, was she expecting a visit from Peaches?"  
  
"I dunno." A shrug and a sigh. "YOU try figuring out my sister."  
  
He chuckled softly. "Gave up on that awhile back, pet."  
  
"You don't- you don't still have a, uh, crush on her. Do you?" Her face turned bright red.  
  
The vampire was startled for a second, but brought his control to bear on his emotions. Keeping his face impassive, he turned to Dawn and gave her an easy smile.  
  
"Cor, pet, that was so long ago. Why bring it up now?" He reached for his duster, thrown across the counter, and fumbled for his smokes.  
  
The teen blushed again, but she wasn't about to relent. *A bitty-Buffy indeed* the vampire snorted to himself.  
  
"Then why are you helping us? Not just now, but for awhile, and-and don't think I don't appreciate it. It's fun, but," she plunged on, despite the noticeable tensing of his body, "but you're always there. No matter what stupid thing we do. Always helping. With that singing demon, and my first fun vamp adventure, and-everything. What's in it for you?"  
  
The vampire was silent for a moment, then he looked up at her, and his eyes were guarded. "Full of questions, aren't we?" His voice was tight, controlled.  
  
The microwave beeped, and he crossed over, opening it and dipping his finger in to test the temperature. Dawn watched with gruesome curiousity as his licked the blood off his finger. He sat next to her with the mug, sipping it thoughtfully. Finally he turned back to her.  
  
"I do love your sister. And I love you, too. You know that, right?" He looked at her intensely, but his voice was soft and breaking. She nodded. "Seeing the two of you- alive- and living-" again his head bent toward the mug in hand, like peering at tea leaves- "That's enough for me." He tried for a smirk that fell short, in a small smile, "you Summers girls have a way of getting under the skin."  
  
Dawn lay a hand on his arm, and they sat like that for awhile, until the oven timer went off.  
  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
  
Week 2, Friday  
  
  
  
"Ow! Bloody hell, woman!" Spike plucked the stake out of his chest, wincing slightly. He looked over to Dawn, cowering at the edge of the mat, and grinned through the pain. "Nice one, Nibblet!"  
  
"Are you okay?" She really looked concerned.  
  
"Yeah, just like a lil' scatch," he assured her, inspecting the wound. "It was good, pet, I would've been dust by now."  
  
"Really?" She brightened, then added quickly, "Not that I want you to be dust, but-"  
  
"I get it, luv."  
  
The Slayer finished her sit-ups and came over to inspect the damage. Standing a little ways back, she looked at the chest wound, then up at the vampire's face.  
  
"That _was_ good. Sure you're not getting slow in your old age?"  
  
*Cor, pet.* Spike swallowed when she smiled at him. *Get a grip.*  
  
"If anyone's slowing, it's you, Slayer. No Big Bad keeping you on your toes, I reckon you're getting soft."  
  
She looked at him skeptically, then brushed the sweat off her forehead and stepped on the mat. She took the stake from her sister. "Then bring it on."  
  
Spike looked surprised, and a little pained. Then he shifted into game face and crouched.  
  
The Slayer moved first, breaking the ice by lunging forward and kicking sideways with her left leg. The vampire easily blocked the foot and pushed it away, trying to throw Buffy off balance. She quickly righted herself and launched a roundhouse at him.  
  
He easily dodged it and circled around her.  
  
"Alright, Slayer, let's stop with the warm-up."  
  
"Just wanted to make sure you weren't going to pull something."  
  
Spike calmly handled a sequence of punches and feints, and the pair settled back, once again circling, eyes never leaving each other. Dawn watched from a safe distance, mouth agape.  
  
Suddenly the vampire rushed forward, throwing two roundhouse kicks in quick succession. Buffy hurriedly backed up, barely dodging the second. He had her on the defensive. He lashed out with his right leg, and the Slayer caught it and twisted, flipping him off his feet as planned.  
  
"Hah! You-"  
  
As he landed both legs shot out, knocking her feet out. She fell, but recovered and scrambled up into a back spring before he could pounce. Spike stood up, a sinister glint in his eye.  
  
*Almost as if he's gloating…but why?*  
  
As the vampire stalked towards her, Buffy went into fight stance and reached back with her left foot. It hit something very hard. She glanced around and silently cursed, realizing that Spike had purposely driven her back against the vaulting horse.  
  
"Dead end, luv?" He smiled menacingly, only a few feet away.  
  
"It's not the end-" She leveraged her arms against the horse and as she jumped up pushed herself forward, legs aimed straight at the chest. He stepped aside and grabbed her from behind, swung her around, and threw her into the horse.  
  
"No, think of it more as a short wall. That your back is up against."  
  
Buffy found herself back in her original back-against-the-wall position.  
  
"That didn't hurt much. Losing steam? Along with witty quips?"  
  
"Nah, just going easy on my old girl."  
  
*Going easy on me??*  
  
Spike realized his mistake when realization came over her face, followed by a look of determination and anger. *Time to take off the gloves* he quickly decided, and feinted forward, trying to pin her against the horse.  
  
The Slayer slipped in and grabbed him by the arms, and try to swing him around into the side. He sensed her intent and pulled her around, and the pair of bodies spun and crashed side-on into the horse, knocking it over.  
  
*  
  
Out in the Magic Shop, Xander and Anya were involved in a heated debate over the floral arrangements. Willow was valiantly trying to ignore them as she ran through some chem. equations. Suddenly there was a loud crash from the training room, and the three lept up.  
  
"I just know Deadboy Jr. has something to do with this!" Xander yelled as they yanked open the door.  
  
Dawn was seated on the window ledge, almost in front of them, and seem engrossed in something to the left, blocked by the door…  
  
The three tumbled in and stopped short. A pair of blonds were wrestling on the floor, over and around a tipped-over vault. As they watched, first one, then the other, pinned the opponent, the advantage see-sawing back and forth.  
  
*  
  
*Oh, she's definitely warmed-up* the thought unbidden flicked through his mind, as Spike looked down at her flushed face and panting body, pinned beneath him. It must have distracted him for a moment, because in the next instance he found himself beneath her. Her hands held his wrists firmly above his head, and her body straddled his chest holding him down, but just barely.  
  
"Looks like a stalemate, luv."  
  
"No-"  
  
Buffy shifted both his wrists to her left hand and reach behind her back. Spike yanked his right arm free and caught her arm as it came down towards his chest, stake in hand. Violently he pulled her by the arm across his chest, throwing her on the floor next to him. He lept up, only to fall *hard* on his back as the Slayer kicked his knees out in a clever spin move. She rolled away from him, and they both jumped up at the same time. Without thinking she launched herself at him, knocking them down. Buffy landed directly on top of him, and for a second she lay there, stunned, before she realized what –extremely hard- part of him she was straddling. She froze and looked at him, and in his intense, knowing gaze, she realized that she was just as aroused as him.  
  
"_AHEM_"  
  
The two blonds turned towards the sound and froze – one in mortification, one trying desperately to contain the laughter.  
  
*The whelp's face! Appalled, disgusted… and just a little turned on, I bet*  
  
"Wha- what- " Xander's arms flailed about.  
  
"Buffy, were you fighting?" Willow stepped forward, looking confused.  
  
"I-I told them you were just play-fighting," Dawn added.  
  
"Yes- but, but Chip man here." Xander pointed accusingly at Spike. "He wasn't all screaming and heady pain."  
  
"He's evil again!" Anya yelped.  
  
Willow ran and grabbed a crossbow. "Buffy, move back! I'll get him."  
  
"What?!" Buffy shielded his body with her own. "No! Will!"  
  
"Hey, Red!" Spike looked slightly offended.  
  
The Slayer sighed and looked down at the vamp. "Guys, back off. Spike's still as, as neutered as he was before."  
  
She watched The Scoobies calm down- and Willow put down the crossbow- then she pushed off Spike's chest and stood up. He looked warily at the group, then stood also, keeping slightly behind the Slayer.  
  
  
  
*  
  
  
  
"So, it's really not a big deal. I am still 100% bonafide Buffy, just with a deep molecular sunburn or something." She smiled confidently at her friends.  
  
Willow still looked a little put-off, but Buffy figured Tara could answer the pile of detailed questions she obviously had. But, Xander didn't looked completely satisfied either. She fixed him with a questioning look and he gave in.  
  
"So… Spike can fight you… because you don't set off his chip." She nodded. "But- how did _he_ figure out it didn't work in the first place." He shot a poisonous glance at the vampire, and the blond-haired one gave him an equally venomous one in return.  
  
"Well?"  
  
"It just – happened."  
  
"He just happened to hit you? Or what?"  
  
"It wasn't like that," Buffy almost snapped back. "It was- an accident."  
  
"Was it?"  
  
"Huh?" Spike looked at Xander.  
  
"Was. It. An accident."  
  
Spike glanced at Buffy, but she turned away.  
  
Anger and frustration burbled deep inside. He turned back sharply and looked piercingly at the whelp. "No, it wasn't. The silly bint just pushed me a little too far, mate. Figured the pain would be worth it to have her finally shut up."  
  
"And it was," he added smugly.  
  
Xander pushed back his chair as he stood up and reached across the table, grabbing Spike by the collar. "If you hurt her-"  
  
"Xander!" Buffy pulled him away. "This isn't helping." She laid a hand on his arm. "I can take care of myself."  
  
"I know you can, Buff." His voice was bitter. "But I trust Dead Boy Jr. as far I can throw- well, I DON'T trust him. How do we know he didn't get his chip altered somehow? How do we know he won't wake up one day and decide to return to his Slayer-killing self?"  
  
"Will?" Buffy looked to her friend for help.  
  
"I- I think I trust him," the redhead said softly. "But why didn't you tell us, Buffy? This is something important."  
  
"I know." The Slayer sighed and sat down. She was tired- that fight with Spike had taken more out of her than she would admit. *I want home, a shower, and bed. Oh, and maybe a pizza.*  
  
"Can we finished this tomorrow? I think Buffy's tired, and I know I am." Dawn looked pointedly at Xander.  
  
He reluctantly agreed, and the group dispersed, the girl trio headed for a Friday couch night, the couple for another round of wedding planning, and the lone vampire for his crypt and a warm pint or two. 


	3. Aftermath

1 Title: Staking Lessons  
  
2  
  
3 Part: 3a / 4  
  
4 Author: RedSpark  
  
Email: red_spark@hotmail.com  
  
5  
  
6 Disclaimer: Nothing is mine, it's all theirs (JW, ME, and company)  
  
7 Summary: Buffy has decided to teach Dawn some self-defense survival skills for life on the Hellmouth. In this part, the lessons continue and the gang deals with the results of the almost-wedding.  
  
Rating: R for the whole series, PG-13 for this part  
  
Spoilers: Season Six up to Hell's Bells  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
  
  
Chapter 3: Aftermath  
  
Author's Notes:  
  
This goes sorta AU after Hell's Bells, since I wrote this before Normal Again aired.  
  
Anything in '*' is a thought. Ex: *This is a thought.*  
  
Also, if you've never seen Ever After (the horror!) you won't get one of the jokes. But you should see it. Really.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Week "3", Tuesday afternoon (events in this story take place a week after Hell's Bells)  
  
  
  
Spike came up through the sewer entrance in to the back of the Magic Shop. It was eerily quiet, not that the place was normally a great bustle of activity this early in the evening. He peaked out at the main floor area. Anya was tucked behind the counter, leaning forward on her elbows as she stared listlessly at some spot on the opposite wall. The ex-demon had been scarily subdued since the almost-wedding. She hadn't come into the Shop for a week, but stayed in her apartment (they thought), not answering her phone. She had, however, recorded a very distraught message on her voice mail, just for Xander in case he called. The groom himself was nowhere to be found. Hadn't been back to their place, wasn't in his parents' basement, wasn't anywhere in Sunnydale that they could tell.  
  
The vampire soundlessly retreated, moving back to the training room door and inwardly groaned as his extra-special hearing picked up strains of synthetic poppy music.  
  
Dawn was doing some warm-up stretches to the chirpy beat, already dressed in her sweats and holey t-shirt. Obviously almost laundry day.  
  
"Aren't you old enough to be getting into that shrieky, angsty rock right about now?"  
  
"Hey Spike!" The teen stood up and smiled at him. "And grunge rock is SO out. Please. It's almost as bad as those Flash tapes you made me lis-"  
  
"_Clash_"  
  
"Whatever." She walked over to the weapons wall and grabbed two jousting sticks, tossing one to him.  
  
"So, you and your mates actually listen to those _girl_ bands?" Spike brought the stick vertical and circled the girl.  
  
"_Boy_ bands!" Dawn whirled, tracking him. "What, not punk enough for you?"  
  
He leaned in, jabbing at her. "Not punk enough for a rock!"  
  
THWACK  
  
"Th' great poofter's got more punk than those sodding gits!"  
  
THWACK  
  
"At least their fashion sense isn't twenty years out of style!"  
  
THWACK  
  
"They haven't been _living_ for twenty years! Still cutting their baby teeth I reckon!"  
  
Spike jabbed in again and caught her off guard, almost knocking her stick away.  
  
Dawn recovered and returned the move, somewhat clumsily, before retreating back into the center of the predator's circle.  
  
Both sticks came up as he moved into her space, eyes watching warily.  
  
"So, how's the girlfriend?"  
  
The vamp stopped short. Dawn dove in and knocked the stick from one hand before he caught himself.  
  
"Girlfriend?? Don't know what you're talking 'bout."  
  
"Oh, please-"  
  
THWACK-THWACK  
  
"-Unless you do that to every girl who-" WHAP "-comes along-"  
  
"Do what?"  
  
"Oh, you know, tongue down the throat, arms on th-"  
  
"She was my DATE."  
  
He whirled, trying to get her off guard.  
  
"You must be a pretty easy date." She followed him, blocking his shot.  
  
THWACK  
  
"We're friends, alright."  
  
"Right. Friends. And I'm a natural blonde."  
  
"All you need's a bottle, luv."  
  
"So where'd you meet. Willy's? Vampire singles club?"  
  
He paused, looked intrigued. "Think they 'ave a vampires single club?"  
  
A snort. "Oh yeah. For those lonely, unstaked undead."  
  
"S'not a bad idea…" he gazed off.  
  
*OOF*  
  
"Not fair! Can't hit a bloke when he's thinking of some unscrupulous money- making plan!"  
  
Dawn rolled her eyes and waited for the vamp to roll to his feet.  
  
"So, how'd I do?"  
  
"Not bad. 'Course that sneak at the end knock you down a point or two… but overall good form, 'cept you're still a little slow with the stick. Let's be fair and give it a 4.7 for technical merit." He grinned at her. "And a 5.0 for artistic. Getting' good at the quips, Bit. Pretty soon they're start hurtin' me."  
  
"I try," her teasing smile didn't quite hide the pride at her 'marks.' "But I'll never be quite as good at them as Buffy."  
  
A groan. "Yeah, Big Sis sure knows the way to a guy's heart."  
  
He tossed his stick to the side, barely missing the stuffed dummy head. "Speaking of the unnatural blonde one, where is she? Her and Red having a little dye party without us?"  
  
"I think they're at some extra-secret Scooby Meeting…'course, without half the Scoobies. Some note about her and Willow doing the meet thing this afternoon. Didn't really care enough to read it."  
  
"Well, that's bleedin' useful."  
  
"Sor-ry. Didn't think you'd care anyway, being evil and all."  
  
"Right. I don't. 'Nuf of the chatter now, let's get some real work in."  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
  
"All present?"  
  
"Here!"  
  
"Fully equipped with caffeinated beverages?"  
  
"Check!"  
  
"Then let the meeting uh, officially come to order."  
  
Willow opened her composition notebook and looked up at Buffy and Tara. The three girls were sitting at a little corner table in the Expresso Pump.  
  
The redhead sighed. "So, any new ideas on the Xander-Anya thing?"  
  
Each looked down into her coffee cup.  
  
"Anything…going better?"  
  
"Anya's back at the Magic shop," Buffy offered. "But I think that has more to do with a strong fear and distrust of anyone else managing her money." A little frown.  
  
"But hey, progress. Caring about money again. A good thing if you're Anya."  
  
The ex-witch turned to Tara. "Xander?"  
  
Fiddling with her cup lid, she answered, "Still at the motel. I tried to visit, but he wouldn't let me in. Just asked me to let everyone know he was…still alive. I'm really worried about him."  
  
"Has anyone been able to talk to him?"  
  
"Not that I know of." A frown. "He won't pick up the phone. Ever."  
  
"What about work?"  
  
"Don't know… Buffy, could you check with some of the guys from his crew?"  
  
"Sure. You mean, do you want them to try talking to him?"  
  
"It's worth a shot." Another sigh. "I don't know what else to do. I mean, I respect the whole time-off-from-everyone concept, but he needs someone to vent to. A _guy_ to vent to. I bet it's a guy kind of talk"  
  
"Giles? Oh…the not-answering-phone problem."  
  
Willow brightened. "Maybe Angel?"  
  
Buffy almost spit her coffee out. "No way! They couldn't stand each other…well, ever."  
  
Tara looked thoughtful. "What about Spike?"  
  
"Uhhh…"  
  
"He's a guy. He's definitely had girl issues. Don't know about the married part…and don't _want_ to know."  
  
"But – he's Spike. And Xander? They're not the chummiest of pals."  
  
"Maybe it's worth a shot." Willow chewed on her lower lip. "Worst that happens, is Xander refuses to see him. Somehow, I don't think Spike's feeling would be hurt.  
  
"You don't think we'll have to pay him, do you?"  
  
* * * * *  
  
Tuesday night, the crypt  
  
  
  
"And what exactly is in this for me?"  
  
The blond huffed and stiffly crossed her arms. "The chance to help someone in need. That nice, tingly feeling one gets when one does something _right_."  
  
A shrug. "Had 'nuf of the nice and tingly variety recently." A smirk. "Don't think I need anymore."  
  
"Well, not getting any more."  
  
"Exactly." He leaned back in his chair, the self-satisfied smirk still on his face.  
  
"Exactly… what?"  
  
"Oh, nothing. Look, have you asked Giles? Whole father-figure deal, might work."  
  
"We were hoping *you* might work."  
  
"Yeah, well, me an' the whelp don't really have that whole chemistry thing going on. We tolerate each other in the name of masculine solidarity, but that's it."  
  
He contemplated the ceiling for a second.  
  
"And since when have I become the substitute-Giles? Seems lately whenever you lot have a problem, it's 'go see Spike.' 'Spike will take care of it.' 'Spike knows what to do.' Poor git, no wonder he left you all. Do I look like a bloody twenty-questions champion?? Do y-"  
  
"Are you _done_ with the ranting?" A very dramatic eye-roll. Then, "Look. Xander needs help. And a guy. Guy help."  
  
The vamp sat there, looking stubborn and silent. Buffy groaned and buried her face in her hands. "We'll pay you?"  
  
A sigh. Then he stood, walking behind his chair. "I was planning on visitin' the whelp anyway, t'morrow," he said quietly, looking down at the tattered upholstry. "Ran into a couple of his friends we played pool with, once or twice. They were worried 'bout him, guess he hasn't been showing up for the nine-to-five deal."  
  
"Thanks-"  
  
"I'm not doing it for you." His voice was low and harsh. "Jus' don't like to see the poor bugger go down, that's all." Thought for a second. "Plus, still need another guy. Won't let him leave me with a bunch of _girls_." He smirked again and Buffy shook her head.  
  
"Well, thanks anyway." She went to leave but paused at the crypt door. "Let me know how it turns out."  
  
A nod. "I will."  
  
* * * * *  
  
Week 3, Wednesday night.  
  
  
  
"What IS that smell?"  
  
"Hey! Same to you, mate."  
  
Xander peered through the crack at the vampire. "Spike. Just when I thought things couldn't get worse." He tried to close the door but the blond threw out a hand to stop it.  
  
"Now jus' hold on a minute! Don't think I'm here out of any consideration for you."  
  
A snort. "Don't worry, I won't."  
  
"Look, you have to let someone in. 'Less you want a very worried Slayer _kicking_ down your door."  
  
Xander looked thoughtful for a moment, then reached to take off the chain.  
  
"Alright. But again, I ask, what IS that smell?"  
  
"Oh!" Spike held up a big paper bag, grease already soaking through the bottom. "I brought wings."  
  
*  
  
Xander motioned him into the room, and the vampire followed, stepping gingerly over the dirty t-shirts and boxers strewn across the floor. A stack of cardboad pizza boxes stood in one corner. In the other, a TV played some late night date show.  
  
Spike flopped on the end on the unmade bed while Xander went to the fridge and pulled out two beers. Tossed one to the vamp, then flung himself in the solitary armchair by the bed.  
  
"It's not fair, you know." He gestured to the bag of wings. "You've found my weakness, but I have yet to learn yours."  
  
Spike hoisted his beer and took a long drink. "Well, I should think it is quite obvious."  
  
The two men sat for a moment in silence.  
  
"Okay, you are never, ever telling anyone that THAT happened."  
  
"Never! Bloody hell!" Spike looked shamefaced at the other. "So, how many times did they make _you_ watch it?"  
  
A groan. "I lost count after ten. Sometimes it was twice in a row. You?"  
  
Spike just shook his head. "Watched it so often over the summer, I was afraid it'd start playing in my dreams. Was one of the Bit's favorite movies. Girls." This pronouncement was followed by another shake of the head.  
  
"You know, I bet they just liked watching that guy prance around in tights."  
  
"Bloody poofter."  
  
The brunette looked across at him with interest.  
  
"Did _you_ used to wear tights?"  
  
"What?! 'Course not. I grew up in the Victoria era, not the bleedin' circus."  
  
"Oh."  
  
Another long silence. Both dug into the wings, making a mess.  
  
*  
  
"You know, all that happy ending stuff is rot anyways."  
  
They had finished the wings and were laid back on the bed and in the chair, watching an infomercial with girls in leotards and working on the beer. Xander cast a sidelong look at the vampire and his not-so-subtle topic.  
  
"And so, it starts."  
  
"Look, don't tell anyone I'm saying this, but it might help if you talk about." A shrug, a long draught of frosty nectar. "Keep it all inside, it'll eat you out." He paused, tried to read the brunette.  
  
Xander sighed, glanced down at the beer can, then around the shabby room. "Alright, let's talk."  
  
* * * * *  
  
(Part 3 continues…just battling problem sets and writer's block :P) 


End file.
